One month ago
Tony threw his bag into his car, then all but fell into the driver's seat. He buckled up, then leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
Even though it was only Tuesday, the teenager could tell it was going to be a long week. He had a major research paper due in English, a lab experiment in chemistry, two major exams in math and history, and a family history project in his language class. And as if that weren't enough, Tony also had to pull double shifts every night at the pizza place his father owned.
Most of his friends had sensed his sour mood and, after a brief greeting, steered clear of him.
But not Joe. For some reason, Joe had ignored Tony's sharp, clipped responses and dark scowls. It had taken Tony yelling at Joe to back off and leave him alone in front of a large group of teenagers before Joe got the message.
Tony opened his eyes and started his car. Joe had only been trying to help. Maybe he'd apologize to Joe; make it up to him somehow.
But next week. First, he'd have to make it through this one.
The drive to the mall took ten minutes. Sighing wearily, Tony dug out his work shirt from his bag and headed inside.
Mr. Prito was wiping down free tables in the half-filled pizzeria when Tony walked in. "Hi, Dad."
Mr. Prito beamed at his son. "Tony! It's good to see you. How was your day?"
"Fine, Dad," Tony replied.
"Such good friends you have," Mr. Prito went on, leading Tony behind the counter. "That Joseph Hardy. Good boy, that one."
"Joe?" Tony echoed, confused. "What do you mean?"
Just then, Joe walked through the kitchen doors wearing a work shirt and apron. Spying Tony, he grinned. "Hi."
Tony stared, dumbfounded, as Joe refilled napkin dispensers, utensil holders, and condiment containers. He smiled and joked with the customers as he went, and collected trash and trays. With a jaunty wave to Tony, he disappeared back into the kitchen.
"What's Joe doing her?" Tony asked his father.
Mr. Prito shrugged as he began to make another pizza. "He came in about half an hour ago and asked if he could help out till the workers were back on their feet. I offered to pay him, but he wouldn't take it."
A customer arrived at the counter just then. Mr. Prito shooed Tony away to get ready for his shift before going to take the order.
Tony did not get the chance to talk to Joe for several hours; the pizza shop had quickly picked up in business and it was all he could do to simply keep up. Having Joe there drastically improved his mood, however. On customer had begun to complain about a wrong order when Joe suddenly appeared. A rapid-fire wordplay between the two had left Tony's head spinning, but had shown the customer was trying to squeeze a free meal out of the shop. Joe had slapped Tony on the back and went to help the next person.
At one point, the crowd had gotten overwhelming. People were calling out more orders than the skeleton crew could fill, and were getting impatient. Just as it looked like tempers were about to explode, Joe had jumped onto a table a whistled loudly.
"One slice of pizza to the guy- or girl- that can outdo me!" he yelled. Scooping up a saltshaker, peppershaker, and a parmesan cheese shaker, he began to juggle.
While Joe juggled more and more objects, and the crowd began to cheer him on, the rest of the pizzeria workers were able to fill all of the orders with no difficulties.
Finally, once the last person had left, Joe caught all of the shakers and condiments and hopped down from the table. Setting the containers down, he sank wearily into a chair.
A couple slices of Joe's favorite pizza appeared on the table. Joe looked up quizzically as Tony sat across from him. "What's this for?"
Tony shrugged. "A bet's a bet. No one beat you, so . . ."
"But the bet was only for one slice," Joe pointed out as he picked one up.
"Yeah, well, the other's for what you did tonight," Tony replied. "Why, Joe? And after the way I treated you."
Joe shrugged. "We're friends."
Tony stared at him. "You say that like it's enough."
Blue eyes turned confused. "Isn't it?"
Tony watched Joe polish off the pizza in thoughtful silence, then stood to help him clean the shop for the night.
